The Butterfly Effect

Two weeks after the wedding, Harry found himself in Narcissa’s drawing room drinking a heavenly cup of tea and scuffing down puff pastry after puff pastry. The London townhouse was a familiar space for Harry, safe even, and so unlike the gloomy stuffiness of the Malfoy Manor he’d glimpsed just that one time.

It was a light airy space filled with dozens of pieces of art. Paintings, sculptures, pottery, photography and various other trinkets filled the space. He would never have expected Narcissa to be artistic but he’d hardly expected to be such good friends with her either. Times changes were unexpected and brilliant like that.

“So how was it?” Narcissa fixed him with an unflinching stare as he finished his story about Teddy and his shenanigans at the Muggle day-care centre he was apart of. It was a good thing his mother was an Auror and could cover up Teddy’s accidental bursts of magic quite smoothly. Harry suspected that he would be as much as a troublemaker as his fathers had been.

“Nice,” Harry shrugged, thought about it some more, “nerve wracking honestly. It leaves me feeling a bit raw afterwards, I suppose. But lighter.”

“I’m glad,” was all she said as she set down her saucer.

Harry was glad too. He’d adamantly fought against the whole Mind Healing business for nearly three years but now that he’d finally gone, he realised just how stupid a fight it had been. It was nice to speak to someone who didn’t know him. He loved the people in his life more than anything, but knew full well that all of their platitudes and reassurances were biased. They knew him, loved him, it was much easier believing someone who did not.

It especially nice knowing that a professional could help him work through his panic attacks, help him navigate through crowds again, help him better express his feelings. Well, Harry was still working on the very last one but he’d only been to three appointments so far and that was a feat in itself.

“Luna’s going to take me to a sort of feelings room, this weekend,” Harry continued, “I told her what my Mind Healer had said about my pent-up rage and Luna said she had just the thing to help fix it. Apparently breaking bottles and hexing mannequins is all the rage now.”

Narcissa laughed, “She’s startlingly similar to her mother. Pandora was always going on and on about something or the other. Regulus was the only one who seemed to understand her most of the time." 

Harry smiled back. It was rare, if ever, that Narcissa spoke of the past. Too many ghosts lingered, she said, but when she did it was always with a gentleness that spoke volumes.

The two of them lapsed into silence, staring out the window at the busy street outside. Harry was almost dozing off when the Floo burst into life and tumbling out was Draco and Theo. Harry started wildly, tea tipping out of the cup and into his lap.

The two hardly seemed to notice him at first, Draco talking a mile a minute as they dropped what seemed like dozens of shopping bags down. Draco of course was the first to spot him, words fading away and gaze sharpening on Harry as he scrubbed at his pants with a napkin. Harry froze in pure mortification.

“Potter,” he said voice full of surprise. His gaze dropped to Harry’s pants and cheeks flushed he glanced away. “Did the Golden Boy pee himself?”

“I-uh-no,” his own cheeks flushed, Harry cursed his stupid tongue that seemed incapable of forming words. “I-uh thought you were in France.”

Harry hadn't seen him since the wedding, had received exactly one letter from the blonde that had contained a stick from an olive tree and a little note that had simply contained a single smiley face. Draco's version of extending an olive branch, quite literally. Reassurance that their fight was well and truly squashed. The little stick was still on his nightstand and Harry had little incentive to ever throw it away. 

“We leave tomorrow,” seeming to shake himself from his surprise, Draco strode over to the table and leaned down to peck his mother on the cheek. “You should’ve told us Potter was coming, Mother. We wouldn’t have interrupted the two of you.”

Narcissa patted her son’s cheek affectionately, “It’s no bother. Is it Harry?”

Harry forced his gaze away from where he’d been staring at Draco’s flushed cheeks and pouted lips. He quite wanted a peck on the cheek in greeting too, “Wh-uh-no. No, it's not."

Snorting a laugh, Draco turned to look at his boyfriend who’d been watching all of them in silence, “Don’t mind him Theo, Potter is quite illiterate most days. Merlin, you should've seen him in school, could barely string along a complete sentence.”

“Hey!”

Draco turned to grin at him eyes sparkling and Harry felt his stomach twist. This was a very bad idea. If he wanted to move on, he sure couldn’t do it when faced with the brilliance of Draco’s eyes.

Clearing his throat, Harry set his sodden napkin down on the table, “I better go. Thanks for the tea, Narcissa. Theo. Draco. Have a nice trip.”

“Stay.”

All three of their gazes swivelled towards Theo, who flushed the slightest but met Harry’s gaze head-on.

“Draco’s told me the two of you talked, there isn’t any bad blood still, is there Potter? No need to leave. Besides, who knows when we'll see you again ?"

They had talked. Talked about almost everything except the fleeting relationship they'd had that crashed and burned so spectacularly. Harry supposed it did not matter as much to Draco as it had to him. After all, what was a few months against three years ? They were still friends though and he did not have to make it more awkward than it was.

“No,” he smiled at Theo, “no, I suppose not. But my pants- “

Rolling his eyes, Draco waved a hand and Harry felt that familiar brush of magic on his skin. A second later his pants were clean and dry, almost as if nothing had happened. He was using his old wand, Harry noticed, and felt something tug in his chest. He'd forgotten how the wand had looked in Draco's slim fingers and it took him right back to days spent learning spells for the Tournament, covertly watching Draco during DA days, watching him cast in that bathroom. Harry shook his head, tried not to linger.

“Thanks.”

“Honestly, Harry, sometimes it’s like you forget you’re a wizard,” Draco sighed dramatically and dropped into the seat next to his mother. He surveyed the spread with a discerning eye and quite pleased, he began to stack his plate. “Are you going to keep standing there, Theo? Careful, Potter will eat everything before you get a chance.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest but that was rather true, so he shrugged and filled his teacup again as Theo dropped down into the seat next to Draco. Narcissa caught Harry’s gaze over her teacup and she smiled, just the slightest and Harry relaxed further.

Draco went on to tell them all in great detail about his shopping experience in the Muggle world. He ragged on and on about how Muggles did not know the definition of personal space, how they seemed to buy dozens of the same item especially toilet paper and how spectacular he found glassblowing. After this proclamation, he bounded up and routed around in his shopping bags until he returned to the table victorious with a little case he presented to his mother. A glass blown narcissus flower.

Narcissa got quite teary eyed at that and kissed her son on the cheek. Harry watched them and wondered not for the first time, why they saw each other so little. They loved each other, exceptionally so, but were rarely in the same place.

Eventually, Draco’s sharp gaze turned on Harry and he squirmed underneath the stare.

“And why exactly are you dressed so nicely Potter? Not just to see my mother, I expect.”

“Don’t prod Draco.”

Harry shrugged, “It’s fine. I just came from a Mind Healer appointment. She scares me a little bit so I try to look my best.”

Draco blinked at him, “A Mind Healer?” Harry braced himself for the inevitable questions but the blonde’s face simply blossomed into a smile, “Harry, that’s wonderful!”

Harry blinked back at him, “I suppose so. It is rather late isn't it?"

“There's no timing on healing, don't be absurb Harry," Still grinning, Draco turned to Theo, "Isn’t it wonderful Theo?”

Theo nodded. He spoke very little, Harry realised and wondered if that was simply because he was there and Nott was unused to his company or if that was Theo’s default. He’d expected Draco to be with someone who matched him especially in line with conversation, someone who’d push back at him, infuriate him a bit, but Theo seemed happy for Draco to take the lead. It worked for them, Harry supposed.

“We went to some Mind Healing kind of thing just last week,” Draco continued, turning his gaze back to Harry, “some sort of feelings room thing, Luna insisted we do. It was brilliant!”

Harry grinned, “I'm going this weekend!”

Draco went on to meticulously explain what it was all about as they listened. As he talked, Theo reached over to snag Draco’s teacup and frowned at finding it empty.

Breaking off midsentence, Draco blinked owlishly at his boyfriend then blinked again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I forgot.”

Theo’s mouth tugged into a frown at that and shrugging he reached over to pour some tea into Draco’s cup. He took a careful sip of it and when he spoke his voice was almost heavy, “Don’t worry about it.”

Draco watched him for a minute, his own frown in place, before he seemed to realise that he was in the presence of others and continued on with his story.

Harry tried to listen but his mind kept snagging on that little thing. It was nothing in the grand scheme of things but somehow everything. The two of them had their own sort of secret language that others weren’t privy to and somehow that had Harry’s breath catching in his throat. It would not do to carry on like this. It would not do at all.

Next weekend, he promised himself that he’d take up Ginny’s offer to set him up with one of her teammates. She'd said that the lady was Harry’s type being a Quidditch player and all. He would try his hardest to make this work. He would.

The evening passed in a delightful blur and when Harry finally forced himself out of his chair and shook hands with the love of his life and his boyfriend, he wondered how many more years would pass before he saw them again. The thought had his chest smarting with grief that threatened to drag him under.

It would not do. This pain in his chest, would not do.

So when the Floo swallowed him back to his apartment, Harry promised he would try dating again.